Therapy Sessions
by arorainthesky
Summary: Hermione Jean Granger, a successful and famous woman on the surface yet her marriage is crumbling. Draco Lucius Malfoy,living in a marriage forced upon him. What happens when both couples go to the same group therapy sessions?


Everything was in black and white, moving in slow motion. The corner of my eye latched onto the hands of the small clock on the dresser, the very small clock that would tell when eleven o'clock was, the moment the brass hour hand would hit the eleven, my world would chance, for better or for worse. However the heavy hands moving at a snails pace with a tick…tick…tick…tick.

10:10

Read the clock.

"Hermione?" The red head asked, though her hair looked greyer, peering at me through the mirror, her concerned brown gaze meeting mine.

"Are you alright? You look…distant," she settled on, the brush she was holding stopping midway in my hair.

"I'm fine, Ginny. Fine," I said quietly, looking back at my reflection. I too was in black and white, my cheeks pale save for the splash of colouring , my hair slicked back. The only bright aspect to my face was my darkened lip.

Ginny started to brush again.

10:20

Read the clock.

"Too many nargles in your head today, Hermione," Luna said from my other side, her voice far off and dreamy, her gaze fixed on me, the gaze that even in black and white, was still knowing, still wise. "Perhaps the veil will ward them off? I placed a small charm on it you see, it will be better that way," she said with a small smile,

"Um thank you, Luna," I said quietly.

The blonde held up the pure white veil though the shimmer of Luna's charm rippled through the lace, swirled around the patterned fabric, giving it an almost other worldly look, making it look heavenly.

My the corner of my lips tugged up at the thought, a splash of colour returning to the world which died down as instantly as it had come up.

Luna placed the veil over my face, beginning to attach it into my hair. That is when the world stopped entirely, save for the clock, still going at its pace with the all-familiar tick…tick…tick.

Suffocation. That's what I felt when the veil fell onto my face. My hands moved to suddenly grip the arms of the chair I had been sitting in, my knuckles white, the powdery scent billowing through my nostrils.

10:45

Read the clock.

I had to get away.

"I just need to be on my own for a moment. I need some fresh air," I mumbled, pulling the veil off me, breathing in deeply.

And so I ran.

Ginny and Luna frowned lightly as I stood up from my chair, and hurried towards the door, running down the steps of the Burrow.

"Hermi-"

"Where are-"

I merely mumbled the same I had said to Ginny and Luna upstairs, my world slowly regaining its colour. First the pale green of the dewy grass, then the bright blue sky up above, the faint chirps of birds audible up above my head but I kept running, past the gates, onto the street.

I ran.

I slumped down on a bench my face in my hands, breathing in deeply, in and out, out and in.

"Could you find no other bench to sit on?" A vaguely familiar sneering voice sounded from next to me. "Why are you wearing that, Granger or is this some attempt at fashion from the mudbloods?"

By that word I knew who the speaker was, resisting a small groan. It had to be him, just had to be the one man.

"Just shut up Malfoy," I snapped, my head tilting upwards to glare directly into the familiar, yet unfamiliar grey gaze. There was something about that gaze, something…off.

The war had taken a toll on us all, Draco Malfoy looked like a defeated man. There was no spark in his eyes, no leering, mocking glint, which I had grown, so accustomed to. In its place was exhaustion, masked by the sneering look to his lip.

"I know I'm attractive Granger but didn't mummy and daddy teach you not to stare? Common courtesies," Malfoy drawled, sending me his infamous smirk, the glimmer of a mocking glint visible in his dead orbs. "Oh wait, they're…muggles," he said, his nose wrinkling at the word.

I decided to ignore him, if I said something I knew sooner or later my fist would be hitting his face, glancing at his attire briefly before looking away. He looked like he had been running, his tracksuit bottoms hung loose on his body, his t-shirt and hair damp with traces of sweat.

We stayed silent for a while; the only noise audible was the glugging of water, which was probably Malfoy taking a swing of his water bottle.

"I hear you are marrying the Weasel. I thought you would have moved on from blood traitor, penniless filth like him, I thought you were smarter than that," Malfoy drawled.

I decided to ignore him again.

"What do you even see in him? Or the question is what does he see in you too. Mudblood filth like you…" he trailed off, still talking but I had tuned him out, not listening to a word he said although one sentence made me freeze, made me turn to look back at him.

"Do you even love him?"

A million defenses rushed to my tongue, the simple word was all it took to free myself of the misery that was this conversation with Malfoy.

"Of co-"

"Hermione! There you are! You're supposed to be walking down the aisle in five minutes! Come, come! Who are you talking to?" My maid of honour panted, having run up to me, her red hair blowing in the slight breeze that had started to waft among the trees.

"Ma-" I exclaimed, turning around but the blond was gone, no traces of him even having sat on this bench were visible. "Never mind, lets go," I mumbled.

With every step we took, the colour in the world began to fade again, draining back into black and white, the faint ticking of the clock audible at the back of my mind, Malfoy's voice wringing in my head.

"DO you even love him?"


End file.
